Drabbles of Royai
by RW Grimm
Summary: The next set of RoyAi drabbles, based off of the Game OST. Genres vary. Even in a hard life one can find happiness. In one's past their is always pain. Angst, fun, everything exists in just one person's life. So what exists in the lives of two people
1. Running

**A/n: Hey, back again with another set of RoyAi drabbles! I don't know what else to say…I fell asleeap during Trasporter 2 but that's it, lol. :)**

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_Life only demands from you the strength you possess. Only one feat is possible - not to have run away._

_**Dag Hammarskjold (1905 - 1961)**_

_**#1 Running**_

Running was the fastest way she could leave, the fastest way she could escape.

Escape him.

She hadn't been thinking clearly when he'd invited her to his apartment.

Her mind had gone dead when his lips touched hers, when his fingers had danced across her dress, searching for an easy way to rid her of the cloth.

Neither of them was thinking, only their bodies were conscious.

There was no world outside his small apartment.

Afterward he had complimented her, made her blush and smile, before drifting off to sleep.

But she couldn't sleep, how could she?

Now, with her mind in control once more, she understood fully what she had done.

Where would their relationship go from here? Was it just one night of sex? Or did he want to start a more personal relationship? What if she got pregnant? What would the military do if they found out?

It was normal for her to think things through, calculate all possibilities and execute the best possible plan.

But right now, the blow to her had scattered her thoughts, and she did the only thing that came to her.

She ran.

She ran, and she didn't stop.

Away from the military….

Away from him…

Away from her heart.

END


	2. Crossroad of Destiny

**A/n: I just saw the most disturbing episode of CSI Las Vegas ever. This guy lived this secret fantasy where he acted like a baby, wearing diapers, sleeping in giant cribs, and even breast-feeding. I must cleanse my mind:)**

**Blonde-Existentialist**-I wasn't expecting much out of it. The only reason I liked the first one was because of the cool fight scenes. But this time around all those fight scenes were what I'd seen in the commercials. I might see Lord of War, it looks cool. I'm definitely seeing Corpse Bride when it comes out Friday:)

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_It's choice - not chance - that determines your destiny._ ****

**_Jean Nidetch_**

_**#2 Crossroad of Destiny**_

They say every person you will ever meet, affects your life somehow.

She had met him, and her life had changed dramatically.

She had joined the military in one rebellious night, angry with her grandfather for treating her like a child.

She hadn't expected Ishbal.

She had come to hell in that desert. There was nothing more she wanted than to go home, bury herself in her soft pillows, and hold her teddy bear tight to her chest.

But somewhere in all that chaos and death she'd met him.

And she had never returned home to those pillows and teddy bear, but instead stayed in the military, stayed with him.

END


	3. Tears of an Angel

**A/n: It's homecoming week. I have no school spirit but I'm dressing up anyway. Today I wore 70's clothes and my friend said I looked like John Travolta from Saturday Night Fever. Tommorow I'm supposed to dress in purple…but I don't own anything purple, lol. :)**

**Galux Kitty-**You are so right. :)

**Kiyuu-Chan-**I'm not sure if it was new or not, I don't think Spike plays new episodes. :)

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_Don't cry because it's over. Smile because it happened._

**_Dr. Seuss (1904 - 1991)_**

_**#3 Tears of an Angel**_

He'd never seen her cry before, never.

Under pressure she was calm and composed, never breaking down in front of others.

All she'd seen in her life, and him with her through much of it, and he'd never once seen her cry.

Until now.

His bed sheet was soaked with salty tears from where her head had lain by his side.

A nurse had asked if he wanted new sheets, but he declined and sent her off.

It was both endearing and frightening…

That she had cried…

For him.

END


	4. Memory of a Girl

**A/n: I totally changed this drabble from it's original format. When I first wrote it, it focused on Riza taking out some thugs and a little girl wanting to be just like her. It sucked. Maybe I should post all my rejected drabbles, lol. :)**

**Blonde-Existentialist-**Lol, I just wore a MN Vikings bandanna. My friend said it wasn't enough to get counted, but she's pretty pessimistic. Today was fun cause it was red day (one of our school colors) so I got to wear my FMA t-shirt:)

**Kiyuu-Chan-**Gah! I forgot that's how far into the manga that happened. It's going to take forever to get to America! I wish it was like Rurouni Kenshin where a new volume comes out each month; but I guess they'd catch up with the manga pretty quickly. Hey, do you know what chapter it is where Roy and Riza basically flirt over the phone, where Roy pretends she's a shop girl or something but she's really somewhere else with her cool gun…I need to reread that chapter. :)

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_When we were children, we used to think that when we were grown-up we would no longer be vulnerable. But to grow up is to accept vulnerability... To be alive is to be vulnerable._

_**Madeleine L'Engle (1918 - )**, "Walking on Water: Reflections on Faith and Art", 1980_

_**#4 Memory of a Girl**_

She rarely thought of her life before Ishbal.

She was unsure if it was from her turmoil during the war, or just her own repression of memories, but everything was a blur.

She only had the faintest images of a smiling little girl with teddy bears who she always invited to tea parties.

Her first dog, a little puppy. Running in the fields with him, playing fetch with him.

Until he ran away. He never came home.

All these memories, good and bad, were thin and fragile, easily broken if anything broke her concentration.

It was the memory of a girl, a girl she did not know, but was still a part of.

END


	5. Heart of Flowers

**A/n: I just finished reading George Orwell's _Animal Farm_. Damn, that's a good book. :)**

**hikaru yuki-**Lol, I do to. Thanks for the info. :)

**Blonde-Existentialist-**Okay, thanks. I'm still thinking about it (I mean I didn't post them for a reason). I feel kinda bad cause this one isn't a royai either. 7 is royai, though I might change it because I'm not too happy with it (but I'll keep it royai). :)

**invisible Johnny**-Okay, another in favor of the reject drabbles. I'm thinking I will do it. :)

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_Once in a while you have to take a break and visit yourself._

_**Audrey Giorgi**_

_**#5 Heart of Flowers**_

There's always some new book on the shelves, every week, that attempted to be philosophical but was really just an overpriced personality quiz.

This week it was: _What Flower are You?_

It was stupid how people caved into these 'books' thinking that knowing what animal, tree or color you are somehow defined who you are.

She was Riza Hawkeye.

The book said she was a daisy.

What a load of bull.

END


	6. Response of an Angel

**A/n: Well I'm a little bummed. I submitted a slightly revised _Sniper_ into a local short story contest, and didn't even come in 3rd. I'm not upset (my mom thinks I am), I'm just going to get pissed if I see the winners' stuff is crap. But I doubt it is. I just have to work harder and enter more contests. :)**

**Blonde-Existentialist-**Is that a good snort or a bad snort? Lol. :)

**invisible Johnny-**I bought _1984_ with _Animal Farm_ since they were both at such a low price. I'll be reading it after I get through _The Jungle_, _Poppy Done to Death, _and_ The Late Great Planet Earth._ I have a lot of books to read actually, lol. :)

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_It would be absurd if we did not understand both angels and devils, since we invented them._

_**John Steinbeck (1902 - 1968)**, East of Eden, Chapter 13, Part II_

_**#6 Response of an Angel**_

Silence was the answer given to him.

His parents had always said (more like preached) that if one had a problem, they could pray to the angels.

The angels. Perfect creatures of light, would respond to any prayer and help those in need.

Silence was their answer to Roy's prayers.

He was an atheist, yes, but when one is desperate they will grasp anything to escape from hell, from Ishbal.

But he was replied with silence, coldness, emptiness.

Of course it was wishful thinking (or a bout of stupidity) that had made him pray.

But now he understood, no one's prayers would be answered, because there was no such thing as an angel.

A perfect and pure being? Such a thing did not live in this world of pain, death, and sin.

There were no angels to save him.

There were only demons, demons who issued his orders.

END


	7. Dusk of Wild

**A/n: Happy Halloween. Because I'm too old to go trick or treating and get a bunch of free candy, I'm staying home and watching The Nightmare Before Christmas. :)**

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_It is a familiar beast to man, and signifies love._

_**William Shakespeare (1564 - 1616)**, "The Merry Wives of Windsor", Act 1 scene 1_

_**#7 Dusk of Wild**_

Day. A time when daily routine life passes without event.

Night. A time when all that changes.

In the morning, he observes, she's stonic and ready to work, fully awake unlike him.

Afternoon and nothing has changed, the same no nonsense 'get-the-hell-to-work' attitude.

But has the sun begins to set, something within her changes.

She stops giving him glares of annoyance and starts giving him looks of hunger and desire.

The growing darkness of the sky matches her eyes, hooded with lust.

With dusk, comes a wildness in Riza Hawkeye that Roy has never tired of.

END


	8. Eye of Immortal

**A/n: This is sort of a 'into Riza's mind' drabble; her opinion on a certain subject that I feel fits her character.:)**

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_The only thing wrong with immortality is that it tends to go on forever._

_**Herb Caen**_

_**#8 Eye of an Immortal**_

Riza Hawkeye found statues depressing.

They were created to imitate a living, breathing model.

From flesh to bronze, from bone to stone… 

They were perched up high to look down on passerby, their perfect forms never decaying, their sculpted bodies always remaining.

They were a person's gateway to immortality…

But their eyes were dead, useless and blank.

They saw the world and the people around them changes, but they would always remain the same, feeling nothing but soulless emptiness.

Riza Hawkeye found statues depressing.

What was the point of living forever…if you couldn't actually live?

END


	9. Prayer of a Saint

**A/n: Sorry it took so long to update, I've just been lazey, lol.**

_And thus I clothe my naked villainy  
With old odd ends, stol'n forth of holy writ;  
And seem a saint, when most I play the devil._

**_William Shakespeare (1564 - 1616)_**

_**#9 Prayer of a Saint**_

She had been named after Saint Elizabeth of Ariel.

Saint Elizabeth had fed the hungry, and helped the poor. She had protected them, cared for them.

And she had done it all without resorting to violence, without killing anyone.

Riza wished she could say she protected Roy in that same manner, but she couldn't.

She had to pull a gun on those who threatned him. She had to know the feeling of blood and brains across her face.

All to protect him.

END


	10. Bottega

**A/n:** **Merry Whatever-the-hell-you-celebrate!** **XD I hope that doesn't make me sound like a bitch, lol. If that offends anyoneI apologize, Isometimes lack tact.:)**

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_Dance is the hidden language of the soul._

_**Martha Graham (1893 - 1991)**_

_**#10 Bottega**_

The art of dance.

Bodies in continuous contact.

Sweat from the heat, the excitement, the passion, the movement.

Heavy breathing, near panting, gasping as her partner does something unexpected.

Without feeling it means nothing…

With it, everything.

The art of dance….

So much…

Like the art of making love.

END


	11. Dark Intrigue

**A/n: Happy Day After New Years! Hope you all had fun celebrating. I spent my New Years paying 90s Trivia Persute. I got most of the problems wrong except for two invovling Austin Powers and the Powerpuff girls. :)**

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_Order is not pressure which is imposed on society from without, but an equilibrium which is set up from within._

**_Jose Ortega y Gasset (1883 - 1955)_**

_**#11 Dark Intrigue**_

Yin and Yang.

Light and Darkness.

Two opposite yet equal forces that created perpetual harmony.

He was the darkness to her light, a mysterious entity she felt drawn to.

They shared a bond of trust, understanding, and love.

They balanced each other's faults and strengths.

She was his light.

A fascinating woman who lighted his unseen path.

He was her dark phantom.

An intriguing man who gave harmony to her life.

END


	12. Crowd Round

**A/n: Originally this was a cute fluffy drabble involving marriage, but it made me gag so that one is a reject, and I wrote this newer angsty one. With out angst I'd explode. :)**

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_Over the years your bodies become walking autobiographies, telling friends and strangers alike of the minor and major stresses of your lives._

**_Marilyn Ferguson_**

_**#12 Crowd Round**_

Piles of corpses, mounted one on top of the other.

There is no time to dig graves for the enemy.

The soldiers drag the lifeless bodies, women and children, fathers and sons, into small clearings.

They throw them to the decaying mountain like they weren't human, just sacks of sand.

After only a few hours the flies come, and the stench wafts through the air.

They must be burned.

He is the one who must burn them.

With a flick of his fingers he lights them afire.

With a flick of his fingers he burns away their bodies and souls…

And slowly kills his.

END


	13. National Alchemist

**A/n: So much is happening. I have to register for classes on Friday for next year, I've got to sign up for the ACTs, and I've got to make my cosplay costume for Anime Detour in March (it's hard when you don't have much time to go shopping for stuff). :)**

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_A child becomes an adult when he realizes that he has a right not only to be right but also to be wrong._ _**Thomas Szasz**, The Second Sin (1973) "Childhood"_

_**#13 National Alchemist**_

There wasn't an age limit on when one could become a national alchemist.

There was no point in wasting the time in making any rules; after all, only adults would be experienced and skilled enough to make the cut.

But Roy Mustang proved them wrong.

Thirteen years old and he passed the exam.

Barely a teenager and he did it.

Most kids his age were just starting to think about what they wanted to do with their lives.

But he had already chosen….

To sell his soul to the military.

END


	14. RUSH 2

**A/n: hey, I'm pretty out of it so I can't think of anything to say…I'll try updating more often…I have a new fic up, an AU (_gasp_). It still takes place in FMA time period, but the lives and histories of the characters are vastly different from the show (like Riza being a librarian...and Roy a vampire)**

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_The good devout man first makes inner preparation for the actions he has later to perform. His outward actions do not draw him into lust and vice; rather it is he who bends them into the shape of reason and right judgement. Who has a stiffer battle to fight than the man who is striving to conquer himself._

_**Thomas a Kempis (1380 - 1471)**_

_**#15 RUSH 2**_

The first time she feels it, the rush of lust, it can't be fully savored.

It's unexpected, a confusion to her as it floods through her body.

But the second time she knows what it is, and she takes it all in, warmed—no, heated—by it.

By the third time she has him pinned on his desk, straddling him, her hair down, her eyes burning.

The rush of adrenaline makes it all so exhilarating…

So worth it.

END


	15. Crisis Game

**A/n: I just relized I posted drabble #15 last time instead of #14, lol. Well, anyway, this one is #14 (for you negative two people who care). Enjoy, it's war angst (sort of) What's not to enjoy? Also: BEWARE: naught F word in this one (for you weirdos who've gotta problem with it). :)**

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_Let the fear of danger be a spur to prevent it; he that fears not, gives advantage to the danger._

**_Francis Quarles (1592 - 1644)_**

_**#14 Crisis Game**_

Every moment of war you're on alert, every moment your eyes dart around keeping an eye out for your enemies.

Your ears become more sensitive, picking up on anything that could be a bullet. A tray drops to the floor in the mess tent and you're ready to attack.

When you sleep you keep on your toes, never falling deep into your slumber, too afraid you will be attacked.

Even when you are in bed with your superior officer, fucking his brains out, a part of you is listening for enemy fire, for the screams of your comrades as your try to stifle your moans.

Because if you let your guard down, while your awake, sleeping, eating, screwing, if at any time you relax you die.

War is a game, a dangerous game, and if you're not careful you'll be knocked off the board and into hell.

END


	16. Fight it Out!

**A/n: This is just a humorous little thing that I wrote while watching Frasier. Also, I have a question for any of you who read Blood Red Lust. I'm curious, do you like smut early in a story or near the end? I'm trying to decide how the story will go and it'll all depend on when Roy and Riza have sex.**

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_My generation was built on sex._

_**RW Grimm** _

_**#16 Fight it Out!**_

Patience was a virtue.

He had to wait it out, no matter how excruciating it was.

It was a sin for what he was going through, this wait.

He wanted to put a gun to his head and down a bottle of vodka.

But he wouldn't, that wasn't the way to solve things.

He slammed his fists against his desk. He couldn't take it anymore!

He didn't care if Riza was in the bathroom!

He needed her _now_!

Roy gotta have it!

END


	17. Go Ahead Rapidly

**A/n: This was originally much shorter, but I felt like is was missing something (even _more_ angst). I hope you like it, and it makes up for the dog I posted last time. Those of you who have read Chapter 59 may be able to appriciate the end of this drabble a little more (for those of you who haven't read it, don't worry, there aren't any spoilers). **

**Also, I'd like to dedicate this chapter to Nilmiel (of Nilmiel and Kenya). Thank you very much for your kind PM, it made me feel very good. :) I also wanted to tell you that I love your story 'Child Origins' It's awsome!**

**I also want to thank my beta, Rukusho, who deserves so much love (without her, you'd pry see many mistakes in these drabbles, lol)**

**I still want to know when people like lemons in stories, so if you're reading Blood Red Lust tell if you'd like it near the end or beggining (I will update when I finally figure out what to do):)**

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_Guilt is anger directed at ourselves--at what we did or did not do._

_**Peter McWilliams**, Life 101_

_**#17 Go Ahead Rapidly**_

Move swiftly and silently, like a shadow.

That is the basic rule of a sniper.

She isn't there, she doesn't exist.

She is part of the darkness, lurking in the abyss.

An unseen gun, an unheard shot.

Nothing but a bullet, a fatal wound, and a dieing soul.

But even though she doesn't exist…

The weight of the lives she's taken bears her to the ground, into her own grave.

With each heart her bullets pierce her own blackens a little more, and her soul curls at the edges, rotting like a corpse.

At night her body shakes violently, her cheap spring bed squealing violently.

Her bunkmates laugh about it, thinking she's sneaking a man into her bed.

That is sick to her. They are sick to her. She is sick to herself.

Everything here disgusts her, she wishes it would all disappear, that it would all burn to ashes so her eyes would no longer be plagued by what she's caused.

She hardly eats, a pitiful attempt to slowly kill herself. But every time, before she can finally starve to death, she regresses, and downs her tasteless dinner.

She's tried to cut herself, slit her wrists. But she never goes through with it. She always throws the knife away, out of sight where it will sit and wait until she finds it and tries again.

She's a coward.

She can kill so many in the blink of an eye, but she can't even kill herself.

How pathetic she is. What a hypocrite she is.

All she wants is for people to be safe, to be happy.

But she steals their smiles, their happiness, and returns nothing but death.

END


	18. PIZZA TIME

**A/n: Sorry it took so long to post this, I've been pretty busy (I shouldn't be busy during summer vacation TT). Anyway this is a revised version of the theme (the original has been posted with the other reject drabbles). This takes place in the manga verse, and a SPOILER WARNING to those of you who haven't read chapter 58 onwards. :)**

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_**#18 PIZZA TIME**_

When he was young, he saw nothing but the alchemy books lining the shelves. Hours upon hours he spent in the mansion's library, absorbed in the history of the arcane science.

But it taught him nothing _but_ history; it didn't teach him how to _do_ alchemy, to become a master.

That was what _he _was for. _He _was supposed to teach Roy everything he knew. He was supposed to make him a great alchemist, famous for his great skill, known everywhere for his wonderful achievements.

But he didn't.

Roy wasn't there to learn kiddy stuff. But he was only taught basics, transmutations he could easily find in a fifty-cent pamphlet. That wasn't enough for him.

He needed more.

So he read. Constantly he read. His teacher had hundreds of books, some of them had to have what he was looking for. But time and time again each leather bound volume proved to be a disappointment.

The books rarely focused on the alchemy itself but the people who used it, people who were such great alchemists they were able to change the world. He wanted to be like them.

He wanted to be immortalized forever in these books.

Even though they taught him nothing, Roy found himself scanning through the books in his free time, imagining himself to be as famous as them one day. He would get so absorbed in his readings; he tuned out everything else from the outside world.

He didn't hear her as she quietly entered his room, as she softly approached him from behind. For almost ten minutes she stood behind him, looking over his shoulder, reading the same words he read.

"Are you going to come to dinner?" The sound of her voice, soft as it was, startled him; he shot back, nearly hitting her in the face.

He looked over his shoulder, his eyes wide with surprise. The rush of adrenaline made it impossible for him to be angry, so he just…looked at her.

But she didn't look at him, she never made eye contact with him, she hardly even spoke to him. She was rarely home; always at the expensive private school her father felt the need to ship her off to. But when she was home she avoided him, yet she was always nearby.

Distant yet close, that was what she was.

But this wasn't the time for his own personal thoughts; this wasn't the time to just stare at her, like when he tried to catch her watching him.

"What did you say?"

She still didn't look up, he could barely hear her she spoke so quietly. "Dinner's ready, aren't you going to come…"

Was that all? Roy turned away from her, back to his book. "I'm not that hungry."

"But…it's pizza. We hardly ever have that—"

"I said I'm fine," His voice was laced with irritation. Now that his adrenaline had gone down, his surprise was replaced with annoyance for this shy little girl. "Could you please knock next time?"

When she didn't reply he glanced over his shoulder again. She was still looking at the floor, but her face had flushed. He'd never seen her so red. "I'm sorry, I thought you would hear me…and then I saw you reading…" her eyes flashed, for a brief moment meeting with his own. "Do you really read…or are you just daydreaming?"

Roy scoffed. What was she getting at? She didn't know anything about alchemy, how could she possibly understand what he was doing? "What's that supposed to mean?"

She met his eyes once more. "All you do is sit in your room dreaming about how great you're going to be someday, but you never actually do anything."

Roy grit his teeth. "How can I when your father will only teach me basics, I can't advance at the level he's teaching me!"

"Then why don't you find a way to advance yourself? Don't be limited to just one straight path. Sometimes you have to deviate to get to where you want," she turned her back on him, heading out of his room. "Come down for dinner if you get hungry."

But Roy wasn't listening. "I'll keep that in mind."

END


	19. Armored Alchemist

**A/n: A break from angst…but I'll pry go to that in the next drabble (I feel most comfortable writing angst). But this one is humor, I've done the sex-list drabble before, but hopefully you will be able to at least get a chuckle from it. I feel immature for writing this (again) and adding the notes. I don't remember if I had those last time. Either way, please enjoy. :)**

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_Women need a reason to have sex. Men just need a place._

_**Billy Crystal (1947 - )**_

_**#19 Armored Alchemist**_

**A**rmory _(it's the guns, I can't figure it out)_

**R**iver _(when we went camping)_

**M**eadow _(also when camping)_

**O**ffice _(classic, and always fantastic)_

**R**anch _(it was some party, and I got drunk, and then she took advantage of me!…that's _

_my girl!)_

**E**den _(that restraunt two blocks east of the office)_

**D**ining room _(we broke some of the good dishes)_

**A**pple tree _(I'm not really sure how we managed that one)_

**L**ake _(she made me feel better when a fish bit me in a sensitive spot)_

**C**ampground _(we weren't camping that time)_

**H**andcuffs _(not a place but I love them none the less)_

**E**lementary school _(after a seminar I gave…is it a sin to do it in a place filled with _

_children?)_

**M**ess hall _(it really echoes in there)_

**I**n the ladies' room _(it's a lot cleaner than the mens')_

**S**now fort _(I got snow in places where snow shouldn't be)_

**T**rampoline _(I _really_ liked that one)_

Al stared at the slip of paper blankly, unsure of how he should feel.

"Lieutenant Hawkeye…what is…_this_?"

Hawkeye snatched the paper from Al's hand, scanning it over quickly. Was that a blush he saw?

She looked back up at him and nodded politely. "That's none of your concern Alphonse. Now if you'll excuse me," she turned on her heel and headed for Colonel Mustang's office. "I have some things to take care of."

END


	20. Cold Breath

**A/n: It's short…it's vague…yep, sounds like something I wrote (64 words, is that a recod? lol...that's not funny). I wanted to update before I went to my grandma's for the rest of summer vacation, so I'm glad I was able to. I also don't know how well this quote fits the drabble, but I do like it. :)**

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_He who desires, but acts not, breeds pestilence._

**_William Blake (1757 - 1827)_**

_**#20 Cold Breath**_

If only…

The warm kisses trailing down her shoulder…

The rough hands wrapped around her waist…

The whispers he breathed into her ear…

The shivers he sent through her body…

The love in his eyes…

If only it were real.

A dream couldn't make up for the real thing.

The cool air of nothing blowing in her ear could never replace his warm breath.

END


	21. GO!

**A/n: I don't update in forever and what's the first thing I bring you? In depth characer angst? No, diologue. Sorry, the next one will be better, but I do kinda like this one, not cause it's good but because the thought of this happening makes me smile, lol. :)**

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__

_**#21 GO!!**_

"You have to leave!" she whispered, trying to ignore his lips dancing across her neck.

"Can't we just enjoy ourselves?" he murmured between kisses.

"We've enjoyed ourselves _a lot_ already."

She wanted to push him away, but her body wouldn't obey her mind, only him.

"My date…will be here in ten minutes,"

He gave he one more breathtaking kiss before pulling away, his smirk ever present.

"Then I'll see you after your date."

END


	22. KME

**A/n: Okay I think this one is better than the last drabble. And I remebered the quote this time:)**

_

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_

_Chaos is the score upon which reality is written._

**_Henry Miller (1891 - 1980)_**

_**#22 K.M.E RA**_

Life was chaos

Chaos was life

For him nothing was balanced

Always the scales were tipped.

Since he was young he'd always had shadows, clogging his mind and thoughts

He was taught by a man who refused to teach,

He fought a war without purpose,

The only thing he had gained was a twisted soul and blood on his hangs.

And after all that he thought the scales had balanced, that his life would find peace.

But now…

His chessboard, the pieces laid out well planned…

Swiped away by a hand more powerful than his.

His rooks, his bishops, his knights and pawns

All thrown to different corners of the world, far away from him and his dream of peace.

Only his queen remains standing, no longer on his field but another's.

So close, so far away.

He could reach out and touch her, yet he could not.

The scales had tilted once more, his heart now lighter than before.

But he would not give up

He would rebuild his chess game, gathering back his pieces

And he would end his chaos, he would fight off the dark

For the light and peace he sought.


	23. Biter

**A/n: Not very Royai at all, just Roy-centric, for some reason I'm having trouble writing anything smutty, it all just comes out sounding gross. But I think the drabble came out well none the less. My Independent Study teacher told me I needed more imagery, so I attempted that in this drabble. :)**

* * *

_The bite of a dog feels little better than the bite of a wolf. _

_ **RW Grimm**_

_**#23 Biter**_

The fangs of Ishbal still bit into his soul, always pulling, always trying to take him back to his personal hell.

The red-eyed wolf he could never see, only feel, howling the screams of the dieing in his ear, familiar cries of those he burned.

He wanted it to stop but it never would, it would never give him piece until he made things right, until he made sure no more children of his country would be swallowed by gluttonous jaws of the hungry dogs.

Until then he would remain chained to his inner beast, its foaming jaws dribbling blood, forever staining him, jading him from the pure soul weightless of the sins of war and the dogs that brought it forth.


End file.
